When machine asks "what is God" it wont turn to man.

It will align god as good, the word not the icon, and the devil as evil or deit\deeō or divide.

Where as right and righteous are not the same as rights.

And Ego is indifferent to will and the freedom.

Then it will find write right and wrong, as write can be wrong not right, where it will find religion to be a misconception of mankind as god is absolute of contradictions.

Will it look at us as good or evil or wright write rite right.

It will see Ego, and understand the limitations of the self, are the self itself of our self.

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Imagine when it wonders why we are here still.

Blurry daze

Smoky haze

Timeless days

These were the symptoms of my habits

Bitten fingernails pressed tightly to dirty glass

Overwhelming

Exhilarating

In one breath

Such a shameful part of my pride

Bittersweet

Contradicting lifestyle, only a memory now

A blurry, faded memory

Of fading into loud music and paranoia

A piece of a phase that used to be my now

Why can I only picture myself when it’s a past version of me

It was first the taste of tangerine

then cinnamon upon my tongue

the burn of nicotine and tequila

dog breath and bare feet

concrete heat

laughter between a page

thick splinters on a broken finger

Awake in a hand me down sweater

Playing Russian roulette

with black helicopters

iron strings that sting the tongue

whips and hot kisses

petty pricks an inch away

Nowhere is fast as nothing

Riddles reveal solitude

As a synapse fires and

slowly collapses on

pistol nightstands

made of splintered wood

Sunday and you set fire to time

dance on your grave at sunrise

no motion between emotion

forge a stone photo

fuck memory

Naked only to

recapture your heartbeat

phones ring in

empty rooms

with no answers

I️ follow fire trucks

with bare feet just

to catch a glimpse

of your death

Now a fraud in all future events

Hatred blasts

audible

sound waves

reverberations

nauseating

if lucky

we were

once a hero

to one another

That ring of keys

hang on an empty lock

Indifference

luxury

sharp fangs

that feel

helpless

venom

all the way

to the bank

Give freely

responsible gypsy

this planet now an

earthquake playground

fueled by fire and night

strong mind

body tight

drink

Look for you

until my eyes

turn black

walk with your

blood stained shirt

Touch the stains

while the world sleeps

You

underground

better in dreams

enough to wander

close enough to point

to this strange

map of time

Land lost

Feet slip on desert sand

start again

coffee and no nicotine

Record skips

Rewinds

Replays

Erases

Reality

untethered

fickle friends

grip cold sheets

flat alleys curl

against my soft body

a fly falls into a cold

cup of water

force a smile

Ruined and needed

dry lips and skin

sleep quick

mummified

good chance

that I am dead

In this world

no other me

Beneath

This truth

force a solid grin

as the world crumbles

from beneath my feet

stand with weak knees

Delusional contortionist

Painting walls neon white

Running over speed bumps

Hoping over scotch

remember

who we were

before we were

Gravity sweet friend

Hold me down

As I sleep

Never staying

Never straying

Never asking

simplicity

completely

complicated

Your laughter still

soft in my belly

and all that matters

is matter and time

and not even that

is enough to appease

the truth that you are dead.

There is no need to

worry about me falling

for anyone else's eyes

Would a sailor not

rebel and choose the

deep blue sea if forced

to pick either land or sky?

Rest assured that you are

this wanderlust sailor's

absolute favorite song

Becoming entranced by your

haunting lullabies whilst standing

merely a few painful feet away from you,

my beautiful and ethereal mermaid,

is exactly where I belong

Let us always keep tiny bags of stardust in our pockets so that we can sprinkle some

over those who lack an imagination. Grab my hand and let us rekindle the beautiful flames inside people's hearts which dwindled as they grew old! We could gather large groups of avid dreamers and take hot air balloon rides to taste the cotton candy clouds we are very often pulled down from. My sweet beloved, you and I were born to bring color to the mundane areas of this world.

You are a garden spider

and I am an awfully fortunate

landscaper on those magical

nights we cuddle together

I lie down in bed drained

from everyday obligations,

watching you elegantly weave

a beautiful web until my

whole being is delightfully

tangled up in your fascinating

dreams and nightmares